Resident Evil: Death and Destruction
by zombehfood
Summary: Please rate/review. Horror themes, violence and language. First in a series of RE character death scenes. "chapter one" - Mikhail Viktor. Next installation: Lisa Trevor.


Flames licked at the windows of the cable car, bangs from wailing limbs of the undead, moaning in hunger. It was the scariest thing Mikhail Victor had ever had to experience, and there he lay injured. His comrades died it the line of duty and he was reduced to lying on a fucking cable car seat because he didn't listen to his gut and get his team out of the area. A woman- no, an angel- had come to see him, asked if he was okay.

All the Russian man could see was a nightmare within a memory; his men fighting for their lives, and losing terribly against the former populace of Raccoon City. They were reduced to a mass of hungry monsters, their skin rotten and torn, some of them nothing but facial muscle and bone and teeth. Some of them didn't even have eyes and they _still_ managed to tear his team a new asshole, all in a matter of hours. Bullets sprayed in hysterical circles as his men- panicking and outnumbered- tried their best to protect the few survivors they found, but it was like witnessing a slaughter, and they were the cattle.

"Fire! Fire! Stick together! Hold them back!" He yelled in vain, shooting a number of the virus carriers in the head, one slumping to the ground and twitching horribly by his feet. A woman screamed as the carriers breached their make-shift barricade and started frenzying on the city folk, bones crunching and flesh tearing, the sounds permanently imbedded into his mind, the sight of innocent men and woman being eaten alive… No man, no woman, no child deserved it, and he was to blame for not holding the monsters at bay, for not killing them as they had killed what could have been the only human survivors left.

"No! Stay away!" He yelled again, opening fire on a woman who ten minutes ago looked like she only had a bad flu. Those ten minutes, he had lost sight of her and she must have completed her transformation into a mindless zombie. _Zombie... They only existed in movies... What has Umbrella done?_ She had gotten too close, he faltered, and she took a nice chunk out of his vest, her nails scrapping against flesh and tearing it open. He yelled out, his knife stabbing into the woman's chest once, twice, three times he stabbed her, and she stumbled back, not feeling the pain. He was out of ammo for his assault rifle, and whipped out his handgun, one round was all it took to kill the first survivor he himself had found. She was only bitten once on the arm… How could she turn so fast? It was only an hour previous that he had found her and all of this madness had completely broken loose.

"Men! Fall back now!" He screamed, and the surviving men started retreating, firing wildly at the flesh-eaters. Half of them didn't even make it ten feet before the carriers got to them, feasting on his team, his comrades. It was only himself, Carlos and Nikolai left, Burns, a dark man with glasses, and Jules, the beanie wearer. They ran for cover as Carlos threw a grenade, and Mikhail was the only one who suffered injury from flying debris. Struck in the shoulder by a piece of flying trash can… This was not his night. Groaning in pain, Carlos and Burns helped him up; he was bleeding pretty bad and started falling into shock. As luck would have it, their medic conveniently got eaten as soon as they hit the god-damn ground.

The pack ran down streets, through doors they knew were clear because they had cleared them not long ago. They were retreating back to the cable car, the only shelter they had in a four block radius. "I—I'm sorry. I failed you all."

"Don't talk like that, Mikhail. You're gonna make it." Carlos spoke, his accent noticeable even then in the panic. He was Hispanic, but Mikhail couldn't figure out where he was from. He suspected Mexico. Carlos wasn't on the team for very long before they received this assignment. Well, Mikhail didn't think so anyway. A year was a while for everyone else, but Mikhail was in Vietnam, a year was a short time compared to that hell. The group stopped, crouching and the injured Russian winced. There were heavy steps, inhuman steps, inhuman breaths; inhuman sounds, too heavy to be a zombie, too deep to be one of those frog-looking things.

"STARS…" The inhuman thing spoke. And all of them got a glance at what they heard. A huge figure at least seven feet tall, maybe eight and more than likely four hundred pounds of pure muscle encased in leather and belts, there was no hair, only boiled skin and purple tubes. The man-thing had no lips, no right eye… _What the hell __**is**__ that thing!?_ Mikhail thought, and then all of them got ready to die as the leather-bound monster stopped, seeming to smell the air and turned to look at them. It raised its right hand and the purple tubing slithered out, as if sniffing the air. It growled, and as if it didn't find what it wanted, left them be and continued on its way.

"That's a sign for us to get the fuck out of dodge. Post haste." Carlos spoke, and the pack moved. Carlos and Burns slower than the two in front, helping Mikhail walk in pain. Who knew fatigue could take over so quickly over a slashed chest and a fucked up shoulder.

Opening his eyes, Mikhail saw that the angel who he remembered was named Jill had returned, carting a few items that looked like they belonged in an engine. She smiled at the man, kneeling and making sure he was okay.

"I'm fine Jill… Please, this hunk of shit needs to get moving so we can get the fuck out of here." He spoke, as calmly as he could muster. He was so tired, so ready to sleep and never wake up. She gave a silent nod, and stood, walking into the other compartment, shortly followed by Carlos. Mikhail wasn't sure how long had passed, but the cable car started moving. Finally; they could escape.

_**CRASH! **_

He jumped up from his resting position, wincing and groaning in pain, and to his utter disbelief… It was the creature, the monster that ignored them. He stood up, swearing in his native tongue as he ended up slumping onto the ground, reloading his rifle with the last cartridge he had. The door to the other compartment opened, and Jill walked out. He mustered up his strength; the creature was after her. He could tell by the way it focused only on her, and spoke its favourite word. He stared at her, and then the creature as it took slow deliberate steps.

"Jill! Get to the next compartment! I've got this bitch." He glared at the monster. "Mikhail, don't!" Jill argued, and he waved a hand. "GET OUT OF HERE!" He yelled, in an instant eternally sorry for raising his voice at her, but they both knew that everyone would die if someone didn't take care of this thing. She nodded, holding his shoulder a moment, and then raced into the other car. He glared some more, and then he took aim. "This is for my comrades!"

A flash of light blinded him for a moment as he opened fire on the hulking mass of man-monster, and he sprayed bullets into the things chest, watching it flinch and eventually take one step back, he smirked and held the trigger tighter, letting his anger pierce the monster's flesh.

_Click-click-click-click._

He looked down in disbelief. That wasn't even half of a magazine. Oh, this was absolute bullshit. Worst day of his life and it was topped off by his half-full magazine dying out before he could even make an impressive dent on the thing.

"Oh shi-" And the thing's powerful hand came crashing into the side of his face, and he went flying into the window, cracking it into a million pieces and busting open his head pretty badly. He yelled out as he fell to the ground, and instinctively started reaching for his rifle as the creature started towards him, his hand starting rising and the purple thing which was in fact a tentacle, writhing around.

_Carlos, Jill, Nikolai, Burns, Jules... Make it out of this place... You helped me, and now I return the favour. _

He pulled a grenade from his vest, he stared at it, and then he pulled out the pin, letting the spoon flick off behind him. The monster was a foot away, leaning down and easily lifted him into the air. He didn't scream, he didn't yell, he only gave one last cocky smile. Thinking of his beautiful wife, his children who were grown and safe from this madness, already missing the way his Juliet smiled when he walked through the door, the way she smelled late at night when they lay in bed holding each other as if they had just fallen in love. _Nicolas, Vladimir. Look after Juliet for me... Look after my angel._

"Check-mate you fucking bastard."

And the explosion rocked the cable car and lit up the skies in a show of fire and flaming debris flying all over, the entire of the second car was blown right off its connecter in a mass of twisted and broken flaming metal, taking with it the nemesis of his Juliet.

His angel.


End file.
